


saw things clearer, once you were in my rear view mirror

by kris932



Series: Just another night when the lights on the street are your only company [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Defenders (Marvel TV), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Civil War Team Iron Man, Darcy Lewis Feels, F/M, Jane Foster & Darcy Lewis Friendship, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Tony Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-11-28 05:02:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20960912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kris932/pseuds/kris932
Summary: Tony spends his days building a new team. Cleaning up after Siberia and the broken remains of the Accords.He spends his nights wide awake.He's not the only one that's been to hell and back in the last few years and Darcy Lewis's tastes in movies at 3am in the morning isn't awful. Not great either, but at least the soundtracks are fantastic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Rearviewmirror, Peal Jam.

It’s not that Tony doesn’t know who she is. He does. He’s been introduced to her on at least three separate occasions and he’s certain that they have exchanged emails in regards to Dr. Foster’s work. It’s just that he’s busy. Busy with his life going up in flames even more than it used to be. Busy with the fact that everything in the universe that is bad or wrong seems to be his fault these days. Busy with begging his brain to stop thinking long enough to let him sleep or relax without turning to drugs or hitting the bottle heavier than he ever had before. Busy helping Rhodey learn to walk again. Busy recovering from fucking almost being killed and left for dead in Siberia. 

Busy pretending that the Avengers weren’t hiding out in Wakanda with Captain America. 

So when Jane Foster ends up in Pepper’s office after her breakup with Thor with an offer from Stark Industries to join their science team, Tony doesn’t involve himself in the hiring process. The company is Pepper’s now and dealing with Jane’s own brand of princely space alien romantic drama is too much for him to handle. But it does tie her to the Avengers, as fractured and non-existent as they are now, and that’s how Jane, Eric and Darcy end up at the compound with Vision, Rhodey and Tony. 

Doctor Foster is very good at her theories and forcing those theories into working fact, but she’s not very good at working with others, balancing her budget, or playing nice with government officials that come through demanding to have a say in her work. She doesn’t trust Tony with her research, and honestly Tony’s kinda done trying to trust people too. Or at least he wishes he was, because it hurts the first time the tiny little astronomer pushes him away from her notes. Foster is just about to give him a piece of her mind, when her assistant comes haphazardly into the room. Lewis is clutching two coffee cups in her hands and a stuffed folder of probably more research notes under one arm. She passes her security card over the reader with her teeth. Her eyes go wide as she takes in the sight of Jane and Tony in the same room. 

She sets her coffee down on her desk (neater but not obsessively so compared to Jane’s) and pushes the other coffee into Jane’s hand, doing the same with the folder of notes.

“Hope you’re playing nice, boss lady.”

Tony stares at the way Darcy maneuvers Jane back to work and sounds more bitter than joking when he blurts out, “she’s not. She won’t let me read her notes.” Instantly his brain points out to him how petty and childish he sounds, and he braces for the coming remarks that will make that clear to him like people normally do, but Darcy doesn’t seem to take it that way. 

“Sorry about that Mr. Stark, Janey here has trust issues. Mostly in the shape of S.H. I.E.L.D.R.A But, I can compile a copy of everything for you by this afternoon?” She’s shuffling her feet and playing with the chunky knit scarf around her neck, and she looks as awkward as Tony thinks he feels right now. 

Jane’s already wandered back to what ever she had been working on before now that she has backup in the room. 

“Nah, don’t stress about it, Lewis. I’ll get out of your way.”

She blinks confusedly behind her glasses at him. 

“It is Lewis, right?” Tony swears that’s what she had been introduced as. 

She looks even more confused. “Yep, Darcy Lewis.”

“Right, well, enjoy your science.” 

He flees to his lab and buries himself in his suits, DUM-E, U, Butterfingers, and FRIDAY still the best company he can ever hope for. He’s got classic rock playlist pounding through the speakers and a new, stronger breast plate being designed when FRIDAY lowers the volume of his music to speak to him. 

“Sir, Miss Lewis is outside, she’d like to drop off Doctor Foster’s research notes for you. Would you like me to grant her access?” 

FRIDAY’s voice is calm, and she doesn’t seem concerned with the situation.

Tony trades the breast plate for a gauntlet instead. He doesn’t think about why he hides it out of sight.

“Yeah, send her on in FRIDAY.”

Lewis approaches, hands full of binders, looking around his lab in awe and smiling at his robots. 

“Sorry this took longer than I thought they would to compile, but FRIDAY said you were still up working so I’d thought I’d drop them off. Digital copies will be ready by the end of the week.”  
She holds the binders out to him. 

Tony stares at them inches from his hands, he’s tired, but then that’s nothing new these days, but he glances at his watch and it’s pushing eleven o’clock at night. Much later than the afternoon Lewis had promised earlier in the day. 

“Sir doesn’t like to be handed things.” 

“Oh, my bad.” Darcy rolls with Friday’s statement, looking for a corner of his work bench that’s not covered in bits and pieces of Iron Man armor parts. She’s successful and drops the binders in place. 

“Sorry again that they took so long, Mr. Stark. Have a good night.”

He means to respond, to tell her to stop calling him fucking Mr. Stark, that his name’s Tony, or even to say thanks for dropping it off, but she’s out the door, with a wave goodbye to his bots, before he can respond. He falls asleep maybe three hours later in in the curve of the updated breast plate he’d pulled out again to work on. 

***-***

He’s barely been at the compound in the last few weeks. It’s been a rollercoaster of highs and lows, arguing about the accords, ignoring the phone and stupid letter that came in the mail, seeing Peter Parker, and meeting a very interesting man by the name Stephen Strange. 

It’s 2 AM in the morning, he’s hit a standstill with his work, but sleep won’t come anytime soon. 

It’s getting colder outside, fall in full swing now and he’s not keen on spending time in the cold these days. He can add snow and cold to the ever-growing list of things that could potentially push him over the edge into a panic attack. 

So he wanders around the climate controlled compound instead. For the first time ever, while he’s been in town at least, he walks past the mini-movie theater and hears the muffled sounds of a movie playing behind the closed doors. 

Friday soundless opens the door for him and pauses the movie playing at the same time. Tony sees Darcy Lewis’s head pop up above one of the big lounge chairs, she’s tense until she processes who is standing in the doorway and he can physically see her shoulders lower and relax slightly. 

“Whatcha watching?” His voice sounds too loud to his own ears. 

“Sahara. Best movie ever. Fight me.”

“You’re wrong. The best movie ever is Rock of Ages.” Tony argues back. Secure in the knowledge that out of two rather average, possibly even bad movies, his choice is much better.

“I mean, considering that’s the only movie I vaguely like Tom Cruise in, I’ll allow it as a close second.” 

She’s laughing at him. 

“Gotta love a movie that takes some of the best music ever and makes It mediocre.” Darcy continues, smiling and turning back to face the screen as Tony starts walking to one of the seats next to her. “Did you know that you can’t download the soundtrack on Amazon? I tried, and buying the CD? 24 bucks, used. Way out of my price range.”

Tony’s brain is still trying to wrap around the fact that 24 dollars is apparently a lot of money when his mouth asks if he can join her. 

Darcy shrugs, waving a hand at all the empty seats. 

“If you can find room, it’s awfully crowded tonight.” 

Her answer startles a laugh out of him, and she smiles at him as he flops down into the seat. 

“I’m even willing to let Friday pick what we watch so it’s fair. But only because you clearly aren’t ready for the awesomeness that is Sahara yet.”

Friday cues up Netflix’s The Dirt and Tony covers his face with his hands and groans, but he’s smiling. 

Lewis is laughing again but then she starts narrating along, “The 1980’s. The worst fucking decade in human history….”

“Wait you’ve seen this enough times to know the words. Also, there is no way you were even alive during the 80’s.” 

“Dude it’s about Mötley Crüe. Of course I’ve seen it. And it sounds like you have too, so…” 

Any of the politeness and standoff-ness of the lab gone from Darcy’s tone. 2 AM and insomnia the great equalizers. 

Tony decides not to argue about her youth or excellent taste in music, now captivated by the fact that Darcy had pulled into her lap a half finished scarf and a crochet hook. She raised an eyebrow at his stare, just daring him to say something. 

“That’s cool.” He says, peering closer. 

“Thanks.” She doesn’t quite sound like she believes Tony. But he wasn’t in the habit of handing out compliments for things he didn’t like. 

“I’m bad at just relaxing I always gotta mess with something.” Darcy continues. 

“Yeah,” he huffs a bitter laugh. “I get that all too well.” 

***-***

He wakes up the next late morning, still in the theater. A spare blanket from one of the rooms thrown over him and DUM-E chirping at the screen where Bob Ross was painting happy little trees. 

It’s the best few hours of sleep he’s had in months. 

“Good morning Sir. Miss Lewis provided you with the blanket before going to bed a few hours ago.”

“Uhhuh.” He needed coffee. He wanted to go back to sleep. 

Friday was learning quick because she noticed how he burrowed back under the blanket a bit more. 

“You have very few items on your schedule today, Sir. None of which are pressing. I could reschedule them for you.” 

“Perfect.” 

Tony’s asleep within minutes. 

***-***

King T’Challa sounds slightly annoyed on the phone. It turns out playing host for the people formerly known as the Avengers isn’t as fun as fanfiction and TMZ late night ‘news’ stories claimed. Tony feels the king’s pain but has never been more happy for them not to be his fucking problem for once. He’s actually smiling as he listens to T’Challa vent about Roger’s inability to listen to other people. It turns out James Barnes wants to go back on the ice, but Roger’s is not down with that plan. 

“Well if you need back up, I’m sure Iron Man could make an appearance, provided I’m backing up your army of badass women.” 

“No more solo appearances near the captain?” T’Challa’s voice is friendly and Tony hopes their calls to each other stay like this. 

“I’d say over my dead body, but since that’s close to what happened, I’m gonna play it safe from now on.”

“That is fair. I am sure that some of the Dora Milage will be more than pleased to head in first. They do not seem to like him much.” The King pauses and there are muffled voices near him. “I’m afraid there are other things I must attend to now Dr. Stark. I will see you at the next United Nations meeting.”

Their polite goodbyes last a few more minutes, neither in a rush to hang up. 

***-***  
It’s about a week out from Thanksgiving and the Compound is quieter than normal. Rhodey off with family, Jane and Eric back to Europe, and it’s just Darcy and Vision staying in the building.  
He had offered to fly Darcy out with her two co-workers, but she had muttered something about Jane’s mom’s tiny ass flat, and ‘never again’, and needing a break from people and so Tony decided to take her at her word that she was more than happy to stay behind. 

He beats her to the theater that evening, still early enough to be called evening. When she shows up halfway through Mary J. Blige belting out lyrics to ‘Harden My Heart’, Darcy looks surprised to see him. He’s starting to get the impression that she’s a common visitor to this place. 

“Will it drive you crazy if we restart the movie?” she asks, taking over the chair next to him. New crochet project in hand. 

“Friday?”

“You got it boss.” 

“Thanks Friday.” Darcy chimes in. 

It turns out Rock of Ages is actually one of Darcy’s favorite movies, and she’s got a long list of modern-ish rock opera cult movies that Tony’s now half scared/half tempted to watch based on her descriptions. 

Rock of Ages ends and Friday picks School of Rock next. Tony (prepared with his own blanket and snacks this time) finds himself relaxing, he also finds himself studying Darcy under the cover of the dark of the room and the blankets he’s burrowed in. She looks exhausted, and she’s wearing clothing with solely comfort in mind. Pepto-bismol pink sweatpants wearing thin in places and novelty T-shit from what looks like a roadside attraction or possibly a shitty bar. He’s not sure but it’s got a tacky looking cartoon fish on it. She’s got fuzzy lime green and orange mismatched socks on. 

Tony doesn’t think he’s ever been alone with an attractive woman so hideously dressed before. 

School of Rock rolls credits and Friday blasts the lights on when the AI sees it’s clear that both Tony and Darcy are still wide awake. 

Both occupants stretch, working out the kinks brought on by almost six straight hours of watching movies. 

The easy comradery between them fades a little as they both stand. Tony doesn’t want it to end. It was nice. 

“You heading to bed?”

“I wish.” She even sounds exhausted, but Tony is well aware that insomnia often doesn’t give a fuck about the fact you want to sleep. 

“Wanna play around with the new gauntlets I’m designing for the suit? See if the blasters are calibrated right?” 

She freezes, crochet project hallway back in her bag. 

“For real?” 

Tony rubs the back of his neck and doesn’t meet her eyes. 

“Yeah, if you want to? It’s a design for a rescue suit mostly, Nano tech mixed with armor. I need to see if it can conform to different body shapes anyway. You’d be doing me a favor really.” 

It’s not just a friendly offer. He does need to test it on other people. He also wants to spend more time with someone who doesn’t actively hate him or have a shit-ton of baggage related to him. 

“Fuck yeah.”


	2. Chapter 2

Friday already has the most beautiful coffee maker in the world brewing them coffee when Tony escorts Darcy into the lab. 

He knows it’s the most beautiful coffee maker in the world because Darcy tells him this repeatedly as she admires it. She’s calling him Tony now, late nights watching TV relaxing her enough to take up his offer of using his first name.

Apparently, the coffee itself is basically orgasmic based on the look on her face as she takes her first few sips. He stares a bit too long at her lips as she drinks and she catches him looking, and stares back a challenge in her eyes that he can’t quite read. 

They play around with the blasters for about an hour and when Tony has her take them off to make notes and adjustments, Darcy takes a seat on the ridiculously comfy sofa he has spent many a night crashed on. He turns after a minute or two of notes to ask her some questions, but she’s dead asleep on the couch, curled in on herself, crochet bag as a pillow. 

She doesn’t wake up as he tosses the blanket he had been using earlier over her. Friday dims the lights and he yawns into his hand. Maybe if he makes it up to his bed, he’ll be able to get some real sleep too. 

***-***

Thanksgiving comes and goes; Vision having volunteered to cook. Darcy, who is also a fantastic cook demands to help. Tony probably hinders more than helps with the actual cooking but the two other residents don’t let him escape off to his lab. It’s the first time in a long time that people seek out his company simply for the pleasure of being around him. He can easily state it’s probably the least extravagant holiday Tony’s ever ‘celebrated’ in his life, but one of the nicer one’s he’s had. 

Vision has already taken his leave for the evening after helping clean the kitchen (contrary to popular belief, Tony was capable of cleaning) and Darcy lingers in the kitchen with Tony after saying goodnight to Vision. 

It’s not as easy between them as it is when they are mocking each other’s taste in movies, but it’s almost there. Darcy breaks the awkwardness first. 

“Want some hot chocolate? Then we could walk off dinner outside? You can actually see the stars out right now.” 

The offer is simultaneously fantastic and horrible at the same time. It is beautiful outside. Darcy’s smiling at him, which he’s coming to find he absolutely craves seeing her smile. But it’s also cold with the promise of snow rolling in in the next few days. He can feel his heart pounding louder and his chest constricting with the very thought of being unprotected out in the cold. Darcy’s still talking but he can’t focus on what she’s saying, between trying to breathe and the telltale tingling that was starting to spread through his shaking hands. 

It could have been a minute or 20 when Darcy’s voice breaks through the panic in his brain. She’s not crowding close to him, but she is breathing calmly, repeating his name and counting out breaths. He starts to follow her count, his hands clutching at his chest. Shaking too. He’s kinda surprised he’s still standing mostly upright. 

He finally gets to the point where he’s able to talk and he cuts off Darcy’s counting. His rough, ‘stop it.’ Comes out so much ruder and snappier than he meant it to. He wants her to leave. He wants to be alone. His ribs and chest ache. Barely healed fractured bones remembering each and every blow. The last thing he wants is his shattered walls crumbling even more in front Darcy. This isn’t her problem to handle. He doesn’t want her to feel like she has to help him. But like always the universe never fucking gives him a break. 

“Do you need anything?” Her voice is low and calm still. It’s not full of pity or anger. Darcy’s eyes are soft and checking him over, making sure he’s getting calmer. 

“Can you just leave me the fuck alone?” 

He regrets it as soon as the words leave his mouth. Darcy’s eyes flash, and she looks like she’s about to snap back. Tony wishes she would. 

“Sure. Happy Thanksgiving Mr. Stark.” 

She’s out the door before he can bring himself to say anything less asshole-y. 

***-***

He pours himself a stiff drink minutes after Darcy leaves, the first one he’s had in weeks. His hands are still shaking as he brings the scotch to his lips. He downs this first drink, pours himself an even stiffer second drink and tells Friday to crank up the heat in the building. 

He’s thoroughly sloshed and Friday has cranked up the heat in the building to about 85 degrees when he has the brilliant idea to go find Darcy. 

That’s easier said than done, considering the fact that he has not been this drunk in years now. After all, his ‘teammates’ would never have let him live it down. Tony knows subconsciously that most of the people formerly known as the avengers were very hypocritical. Howard Stark had told Tony quite a few stories that began and ended with the Howlin’ Commandos in a bar. Barton had spent a few nights quite deep in a bottle. Banner ran from his issues and responsibilities all the time. He didn’t even want to think about Natasha or Maximoff. But somehow, despite being able to keep his company and the avengers running as best as possible, and working to address the concerns over 100 of the world’s countries, he’s the irresponsible one. 

It takes him longer than he wants to admit to find Darcy’s private quarters. For several reasons. A: He’s Drunk. B: He had had Friday assign Team Space Science their rooms, gone were the days he was going to waste time making rooms personal for people. So, he didn’t actually know which rooms were Darcy’s. C: Friday, after telling him that this was a bad idea had refused to tell him which rooms Darcy was staying in. Which led to him wandering around several empty living quarters before finding the right one. 

He knocks on the door. Hard. He winces at the sound, he hadn’t meant to make it sound so demanding. The seconds tick by slowly before Darcy opens the door to stand there in front of him. 

She raises an eyebrow at him, “Mr. Stark, can I help you?”

Tony slumps against the edge of the door and runs his hands across his face. He can only imagine what he must look like to her. Drunk, finally down from a massive panic attack, a graying exhausted failure, fumbling over a simple apology. He’s not good at simple. He’s only known grand gestures. He could buy this woman 20 vacation homes, no sweat, but even that sort of gesture has been thrown back in his face so many times that he really has no clue what people want from him. 

“I didn’t mean to be an asshole to you earlier. In the kitchen. I like hot chocolate.” And now he’s fucking rambling like he’s a fifteen-year-old boy, “anyway I’m sorry. I keep fucking shit up and I know it’s not your job, what you did in the kitchen and…” 

Darcy’s staring at him and her face is getting angrier as he speaks. Now would be the perfect time for a strategic retreat, to handle this issue during the day, sober. But he wouldn’t be Tony Fucking Stark if he made those kinds of healthy choices. 

“you didn’t have to stay and handle that and fuck up what you wanted to do on your vacation…”

“Wait what the fuck?” Darcy interrupts him sharply. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Seriously, what the fuck Tony?” 

The use of his name breaks through some of the fog in his brain and he manages a full complete thought and sentence. 

“I’m sorry you had to deal with my fucked up issues back in the kitchen. I didn’t want to fuck up your days off from work.” 

Darcy’s clearly not buying the apology, her face has gone stormy and he’s rapidly trying to find another way to make things up to her when-

“You wanna come in and have a glass of water? You look like you need to drink some water and possibly have a few tums and advil, because even if your playboy days in the past kept you well liquored up, you are still going to have a massive hangover in the morning.” 

Tony blinks at her confused. Her words were friendly and open but she still looks pissed as hell. 

“You want me to come in?”

“If you want. I only own like a cheap futon and don’t have a TV, just a laptop with Netflix but,” she shrugs and moves to the side so that he can walk in if he wants too. “you’re welcome to come in.”

She waves him over to the futon, and he sits down and stares at the open kitchen layout as Darcy pours him a cup of water and opens some drawers until she finds some advil and tums. She walks over and hands him both items, before she flops down next to him on the futon. 

Tony opens his mouth to apologize again, but Darcy raises a finger to place over his lips in the ‘shush’ symbol.

“Unless you’re about to suggest something awesome to watch on Netflix I don’t really want to hear it. If you think you need to apologize for something we can talk about it when you’re sober tomorrow.” 

He has no idea what’s actually listed on Netflix, that’s what he has Friday for. So Tony sips his water and blindly stares at the small laptop screen as Darcy hits play on some comic she had already been watching. 

He pops the advil and tums into his mouth, a gross combination that he accidentally chews together and washes down with the rest of the water. Darcy notices and gets up before he can protest to refill his glass. 

He dozes off to the sound of Darcy laughing quietly beside him at whatever joke is playing on the screen.


	3. Chapter 3

He wakes up to the smell of coffee. It's definitely not his coffee, but it holds the promise of sweet sweet caffeine. So he’s willing to drink whatever brand it is. The futon is indeed cheap, he can feel one of the support bars digging into his ribs. He's going to need a massage and a chiropractor after this. 

His head hurts but not as much as it should. The water and various over the counter drugs had been a good call on Lewis's part. 

Darcy's bustling around in the kitchen, she's got music playing, The Eagles reminding her to have a Peaceful Easy Feeling and she’s singing along to the lyrics, slightly off-key. 

He sits up and stretches, body sore and lethargic. He reaches out for the glass of water Darcy must of left behind for him last night, and takes a sip. 

He's never woken up in someone's else's house before. Rhodes, Happy, and Pepper the exceptions. Yeah, technically he owns this building too, but it’s not his stuff. 

"Bathroom's down the hall." Darcy calls out when he obviously looks lost. 

He should know that, he designed the building. Tony nods his thanks. 

"You hungry?" 

His stomach churns at the thought of food. 

"Just coffee...maybe some dry toast." 

He splashes water over his face in the bathroom. All the hand towels in the room have been crocheted in mismatching colors and styles. Darcy wasn't joking about having to keep busy. 

He feels a little less like death the more he splashes water over his face and hands, but not by much. Finally he gives up, knowing this was the best it was going to be for the time being and he grabs one of the crochet towels to dry water off his face and beard. 

There is coffee, dry toast, water, and a bottle of advil waiting for him at the kitchen table. Tony cradles the coffee cup like it’s the answer to all his problems and watches Darcy as she finishes up what looks like a gourmet breakfast for herself. He’s still staring at her when she takes the seat right across from him and sits down. She’s smiling at him. 

“Drink some water too, Tony.”

If Tony had been raised in a normal family, he would have muttered something along the lines of “Yes, mom.” As sarcastically as he could in the face of Darcy’s caring order. But considering neither one of his parents had ever particularly cared to personally involve themselves in the minute day-to-day aspects of child rearing, the phrase didn’t even occur to him. 

Several other things do occur to him though. He’s having breakfast with a lovely woman half his age that he hasn’t slept with, she’s smart and competent and currently not mad or annoyed at him like all the other smart and competent women he knows, and apparently, he hasn’t fucked up this tentative friendship that’s forming between them yet. 

All in all it’s very new to him on all fronts. 

“You got plans for the next few days, before Foster gets back?” Despite how awful his head feels right now, he kinda just wants to have a conversation. 

“No. Just this. Plans take mon-“ Darcy cuts off midword as she seems to remember that it’s Tony Stark ™ sitting across from her. 

“What I mean, I got nothing. I love Jane but I need a break at times. And I’m tired.” She shrugs and plays with the little bit of egg she hasn’t yet inhaled left on her plate. 

“You’re always tired.” It’s simply a statement, he didn’t mean it as an attack but it makes Darcy freeze for a moment before she agrees. He’d bet Cap’s shield sitting in one of his extra storage rooms that she’s fed up with people telling her ‘just get some rest’ or ‘you’re to young to be this tired.’ 

“Yeah. No shit. A good night’s sleep would help solve that.” She sounds bitter and angry and Tony wonders what keeps her up all night long. It’s not really a breakfast kind of topic to broach. And he wants Darcy smiling again. 

“Wanna get out of the compound for a few hours or day or two? We could drive somewhere, or fly.” He offers, playing with his toast and not meeting Darcy’s eyes. 

“Everything local is gonna be cold outside, Tony.” 

Right, he couldn’t even manage a walk last night outside. In the bright light of day he’d probably be fine, but it still didn’t sound appealing. 

“So, let’s go some place warm. C’mon, there’s gotta be some place we could kill a day or two of time at that has nothing to do with either one of our many many responsibilities.” The idea is actually starting to sound good to himself. He hasn’t had a vacation in years now. He used to jet off all the time, usually with a supermodel or four, but still. 

Darcy’s tapping her fork against the plate and clearly having a major internal battle on how to answer him. Finally, it looks like she’s come to an end. 

“Fine. Have you heard the Billy Idol song, Sweet Sixteen?”

***-***

So it turns out Tony owns property down in the Miami area, which means he can at least attempt to keep this trip quiet from paparazzi and politicians. It’s been about fifteen years since he’s used this beachfront property, and he’s pretty sure the last time he was here it involved a few topless bathing suit models sitting in his pool. 

Darcy’s taking advantage of his pool too, but she’s wearing a very flattering black one piece, that make her normally rockin’ curves show front and center despite still covering just about everything. Tony highly doubts he’ll be lucky enough to see her in anything less. 

While she’s out at the pool, book and beer set up by her lounge chair, he makes some phone calls that can’t be avoided. He has a list of New York City vigilantes that he should really try and meet. He knows of Stephen and Danny from their old roles, but both seem like very different men these days. But, Tony himself is very different these days and maybe, just maybe, this means the three of them might actually be able to work together. 

Matt Murdock and Jessica Jones are two complete wild cards that he knows nothing about. 

But Strange brings them up each time Tony talks about the Accords with him and despite arguing with Stephen, merely for the thrill of having a worthy opponent who can give it as good as he takes without being malicious, Tony’s starting to really listen to what the former surgeon has to say. 

“You gonna work this whole trip?” Darcy asks as she drips all over the office floor. Tony’s mouth goes dry as he gets sidetracked by water sliding down one curve of her breast to answer. She crosses her arms and that does not help his concentration at all. When he finally meets her eyes, she fidgets under his stare.

“No, course not. I’m uh,” He doesn’t like putting his head under water these days either. He can and does on occasion, but he’s realizing more and more just how damaged he is. “I’ll join you outside.”  
Darcy doesn’t seem to mind that he sits on the edge of the pool, flips through her book as she swims about, and steals most of her beer. He kicks water at her when she surfaces nearby and she dives   
back under laughing. She’s careful not to splash him upon resurfacing and it’s almost like hanging out with Rhodey. She’s not making him do anything he can’t handle. 

Once the sun sets, the dip in temperature is enough to chase Darcy out of the pool into the sauna and shower while Tony hunts down some takeout food for dinner. 

They both doze fitfully in the living room on separate couches as Billy Idol croons about a love story that ended before it began. 

***-***

It turns out Coral Castle meets two of Darcy’s requirements for an ‘interesting’ vacation. It has ties to rock music from before she was born and it involves a roadside attraction. Tony has been informed in detail on the ride out here all about one of her favorite websites that is solely dedicated to finding and marking the United States oddest roadside attractions. 

Coral Castle is definitely odd. There’s a guided tour and a surprisingly large group milling about waiting for it to start. Darcy scoffs at the idea of taking the guided tour, and Tony’s relived to slip past the group. Less chance of someone recognizing him. He had shaved and dressed as non-descript as possible, but it wasn’t always drastic enough to shake off an observant person.   
Darcy’s wearing V-neck t-shirt that’s seen better days, its edges are frayed and stretched in places, she’s also wearing skin tight running capris and sneakers. 

And that’s how Tony knows he’s done for when Darcy bends over to tie her laces and he trips over his own feet because he’s staring at her again. 

This time she blushes as she catches his look and he can feel his own face heating up. 

Behind a few of the big stone structures, Tony can hear the tour guide loudly announce some very iffy pseudo-science to the tour group. He turns away and pretends to be very interested in the pamphlet he had picked up when they bought entrance tickets to the castle. 

He startles when Darcy pokes lightly at his side to get his attention. 

“We going to explore or what?” 

“Yeah, after you.” 

There’s really not much to see. Darcy pushes her cell phone into Tony’s hand and makes him take a bunch of photos of her next to the tall hand carved rocks. 

When he hands her phone back to her she slings an arm around his shoulders to get him in the frame with her and she snaps a selfie of the two of them. He tenses immediately at the friendly touch and when she pulls away she’s immediately apologizing. 

“Darcy, stop. It’s not you. Ok?” He says after about the fifth rambling apology. 

“I didn’t mean to get all up in your space like that.” She’s flipping through the phone to delete the photo. 

“You’re more than welcome to get into my space any fucking time you want.” He reaches out to stop her from messing with her phone. “Send me that pic would you?” 

She’s blushing again, but she hands him her phone again with a contacts page open blank on the screen. 

“I don’t actually have your number to do that.” 

He enters his private cell phone number, a number he’s had for years. A number given to so few people he can still count the number on one hand. Friday filters most of his calls through his phone as she sees fit, but this just means Darcy can contact him directly even by-passing his AI. 

He's so fucking screwed.


	4. Chapter 4

They seemed to have come to some unspoken agreement that their quick trip down to Florida was just for themselves. Tony’s positive that if Foster knew he had whisked her assistant away for a day or so, he’d never hear the end of it. 

But Foster’s only focused on science and not protecting Darcy’s virtue (he can imagine the epic eye-roll Darcy’d give him at being described virtuous) from him. 

It’s not like she doesn’t have a home-modified tazer that she was very trigger happy with to protect herself if she felt the pressing need too. 

Instead of drama, Tony just gets texts featuring pics of Darcy dramatically flopped over piles of Jane’s paperwork, asking for him to tell her story as she drowns to death in grant requests and haphazard notes. The rest of the time she sends memes about science and superheroes that could give Peter Parker’s meme skills a run for their money. 

He steals the best memes Peter’s sent him, sending them right back at her. 

It’s fun and completely stupid and so very much what he needs in his life right now. 

He’s off again most days of the week. Meeting with the United Nations reps, every fucking branch of the USA government down in DC, long meetings at Stephen’s very odd home. That last one often turns into dinner and a pop culture war that he half wants to add Darcy to the mix just to see her hold her own, but he’s not quite ready to share their private little friendship with more people yet.   
He gets back to the compound only a day before Christmas. The holiday itself doesn’t mean much to him. He’s not particularly religious and growing up half of the most important people in his life were Jewish and didn’t really celebrate Christmas. 

But it’s hard to avoid. No one’s leaving town like they all did for Thanksgiving. Darcy hasn’t really left except for their Florida trip. He doesn’t even think she owns a car. Happy had to talk him out of buying her one for Christmas, so he settled for texting Darcy to let her know he’d be back in town for the holiday. And buying her a shit-ton amount of the most expensive, oddly colored, and cozy yarn he could find on the internet from small businesses. And hunting down one of his original Motely Crue albums signed by the band. 

Foster’s deep into new findings. Rhodey doesn’t want to interrupt his physical therapy, Vision comes and goes as he pleases, learning more about humanity and the world in his own way. Happy’s still around from keeping an eye on Tony as he hopped from city to city and meeting to meeting. Tony invites Stephen and Peter over. Peter ends up staying in Queens with his aunt, and Stephen mutters something about dimensional shifts and Hong Kong and Tony wisely doesn’t ask more questions. Strange will show up if he can. If not, well Tony can drop off the Beyoncé concert tickets for him and Wong some other time. 

Christmas eve dinner is noisy, and everyone gets a little drunk before scattering off to their own pursuits for the last few hours before Christmas. The general idea is they’d all meet up tomorrow afternoon for gifts and more food. 

Tony’s supposed to meet Darcy in the movie theater, but she’s late. DUM-E’s followed him in and beeping at him confused, because the screen is blank and Tony’s all fidgety. 

He composes and deletes four texts checking up on her before his phone beeps with a text from Darcy saving him from agonizing over the situation like he’s in middle school and not a grown ass man.   
The simple [Sorry, on my way] text is enough to at least get him relaxed enough to lounge back and ask DUM-E to make him another scotch on the rocks. 

Fifteen minutes later, Darcy in all her ugly Christmas sweater glory comes rushing into the room. She’s carrying a thermos of hot chocolate, that Tony calculated had to be at least half full of whiskey, based on her trouble walking and deep flush in her cheeks. She hadn’t been that tipsy at dinner. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. There were things. Christmass-y things.”

“I see,” he smiles at her as she stumbles into to the chair next to him. She pulls her feet up on the chair and wraps her arms around them. Still clutching the hot chocolate thermos in one hand. She doesn’t meet his eyes or sound as relaxed as she was at dinner with Jane and Eric. 

He doesn’t like it. 

“Everything all right?” 

She meets his worried gaze this time and waves a hand vaguely in the air. “Just holiday blues I guess.” 

He nods, but is sure there is more to it than that. 

“But, anyway. I was promised a Christmas eve of getting drunk and watching classic Christmas movies. You gonna deliver that or not Stark?” 

“Friday?”

The surround sound of his customized theater kicks in and he does his best to settle down and watch a band of misfit toys, an elf, and a reindeer with interesting genetics try and save Christmas.   
Darcy’s half dozing, coiled up protectively in her chair by the middle of the movie. Thermos, of now what he’s tasted, mostly whiskey, mostly empty. He reaches out careful and shakes Darcy’s arm.   
She jolts awake and blankly stares at him before realizing who he is. Friday’s already lowered the sound in the room to background noise, and Tony keeps his voice down. 

“You should go to bed, you’re kinda out of it.” 

She nods groggily and almost faceplants trying to get out of the chair, Tony’s arms catching quickly to hold her up right. 

“Need some help getting back to your apartment? You should try and rest.” He’s still got his arms around her keeping her up right and Darcy’s not pulling away or tasing him, she’s all warm and soft, snuggling in closer to him, and he’d be more than happy to help get rid of that hideous sweater she’s wearing, among other articles of clothing covering her curves. But’s she’s almost sloppy wasted and he’s tipsy, and it’s Christmas by now probably and he really needs to just get her safely to bed. 

She nods her head against his shoulder. “Mhhmmhuh. Bed sounds nice.” 

He calls DUM-E over and the three of them make their way to Darcy’s apartment. Darcy fumbles the keys and security card when they arrive and Tony has to take over after she drops them twice. She falls into to bed immediately despite still wearing all her clothes and shoes. Tony instructs Friday to keep a close watch to make sure Darcy stays safe and then he books it out of there for his lab.   
He vaguely planned to get work done, but his robots had other ideas and he ends up on the couch in his lab surrounded by U, Butterfingers, Dum-E and Friday all staring at the projection of Friday’s romantic pick of White Christmas playing against the wall. 

Tony falls asleep to the movie’s music and his bots chirping and beeping vaguely in time. 

***-***

He’s groggy but not hung over when he wakes up and hauls himself over to the restroom. When he exits the bathroom, the bots are off their charging stations and U and Dum-E are carefully holding out two Christmas gifts. One’s perfectly wrapped with paper featuring little Ironmans zooming through the air wearing Santa hats. Tony has a sneaking suspicion Friday designed and printed that custom in the spirit of the holiday. Despite the perfect corners folder over the edges of the box, there is an excessive amount of tape holding it together, and Tony’s sure that that is probably Dum-E’s big contribution. It’s adorable over all, and he totally doesn’t sound choked up as he takes the gift from them. 

He carefully unwraps his bots work to find a little metal frame made from scraps he’s sure he’s thrown out at some point around the lab. It’s all carefully, yet slightly messily wielded together, he probably should have designed Dum-E with two arms in hindsight. Inside is a photo that had to be lifted from security feeds of him and the three bots, with the latest Ironman suit looking like it’s lounging beside them. 

It’s a family photo. 

It’s fucking perfect. 

He can’t bring himself to actually say words, because he’d probably start bawling, and he’s never been allowed to be comfortable with that kind of emotion. But his bots know him better and longer than anyone else and they get it. 

A few minutes later he composes himself enough to take the other gift. It’s a much bigger box and it’s wrapped in old crumpled SHIELD NDA forms and requests. Darcy’s less than polite demands for her ipod to be given back can be seen in red ink across some of the forms. He laughs at Darcy’s blunt ‘Fuck SHIELD’ paperwork attempts and eagerly rips through the paper and opens the much bigger and heaver box than the one his bots gave him. 

He pauses for a second as he looks inside. Darcy’s crocheted something, but its all black yarn at the top of the box. He pulls it out of the box and un folds the blanket, large enough to wrap himself in twice over. 

What ever composure he had held on to through the bots' gift completely disappears as he takes in the familiar shape of his old arc reactor, the colors that used to glow in his chest matched perfect to the pattern in front of him. 

His chest aches where the reactor used to be, it’s not painful, except for the fact it’s fucking wreaking him, it’s more emotional than anything. 

Tony’s spent millions of dollars on gifts for people he’s cared about. Most of the time and random times and whims. Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy have kinda just learn to go with it. He’s gotten gifts back for holidays and birthdays. Mostly small things and usually part of some inside joke based on who it’s from. 

He’s never received (outside of his bots) something this elaborate, time consuming, and clearly thought out, not to mentioned handmade from someone. This had to have taken weeks to make. 

He sits down on the couch with a thud and buries his head into the soft blanket. He’s fucking sobbing, and he can’t remember the last time he cried. It might a been just months ago in Siberia or something to do with Pepper or years ago during the long bleak days after his parent’s funeral. 

It doesn’t matter because he’s sobbing into the blanket and it feels like he’s crying through every fucking disaster that makes up his life, and it’s an absolutely gorgeous gift, and the most generous one he’s every received from someone he hasn’t physically built with his own two hands and intellect and he might just be falling in love with the snarky music loving tazer wielding now-paid intern that is Darcy Lewis.


	5. Chapter 5

Physically, mentally, and emotionally shattered Tony finally stops crying long enough to carefully drape the blanket over the couch. He heads back to the bathroom, turns on the shower and stands under the warm water slumped against the wall for support for close to an hour. He feels drained and elated at the same time. 

He cuts off the water, scrounges clean clothes and a towel from one of the cabinets. He trims his beard, puts his normal cologne on, and generally tries to look like a functioning adult. 

Back at the couch he folds his blanket over his arm, then leaves the lab to go find Darcy. He knocks on her door, rather eagerly, which comes across brash and loud. Well he’s never been good at being subtle about things. Usually there are press conferences and TMZ video feeds when he wants to say or do something, up to and including walking out his own front door.

Finally, after what feels much longer than it was, Darcy opens the door, sans glasses and blinks up at him blurrily.

“Uh. Hey. Tony.” She looks confused to see him standing there, “What’s up?” 

“This.” He gestures wildly at the awesomeness that is the fucking arc reactor blanket. “You made this?”

Darcy instantly goes on guard, arms crossed and the sudden change in body language throws Tony off. 

“Well yeah. Sorry if I didn’t know what to buy the guy who has literally billions of dollars sitting in a bank account somewhere.” She snaps, staring straight at him. Daring him to say something back.   
It’s defensive, sounds like an accusation even though it’s not, and Tony knows all about being on the defensive. Sometimes you get pushed too much to many times by too many different people and just can’t anymore. 

“I’m shit at this, but I, uh.” He runs his free hand through his hair, the other grips the blanket as if Darcy’s going to take her handiwork back. He stops messing with his hair to point to the blanket. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten. I’m probably going to go to board meetings and United Nation Hearings wrapped up in it. Possibly take over the world while wearing it as a very stylish and heavy cape. FYI.”

He can see the wall she’s put up crack slightly. 

“You uh, might get sued for that. I think Doom and Strange have cornered the market on wearing capes.” She deflects the same way Tony often does, making snarking comments and running tangents so quickly that people get sidetracked as to what they originally wanted to address. Tony will play along, but he’s not going to stop coming back to the reason he’s here. 

“Strange’s is a cloak. Totally different.”

“My bad.” 

“Common mistake I’m sure, just don’t say that directly to the cloak. It gets twitchy when you call it a cape.” 

“That seems fair.”

“Anyway,” he drawls out the word. “Back to the awesome gift you gave me.”

She flushes red at that. He lips twisting like she wants to say many different things but she can’t decide what words to use. 

“Where’d you find the arc reactor pattern?” It was really well done, and apparently there were better paparazzi photos out there on the internet than he originally thought for that level of detail. 

“Friday showed me close up security footage and I took that and built a working pattern based off of it. So on the technical side of things, it’s all mine.” 

“Well now that’s even more impressive.” It was, she built a pattern from scratch, as a person who had built many things form scratch, he was well aware of the hours and trial and error that went into effect to make something work, never mind work perfectly. Even when you were a bona fide genius. “But why did you spend all that time and effort?” 

“Uh, thanks. And, like Happy Holidays and all that jazz.” Darcy opens her apartment door wider and points a thumb over her shoulder. Ignoring his question and bulldozing forward with another change in topic. “I’m baking cookies for this afternoon. You want some of the left over chocolate chip cookie dough? And seasonally appropriate sprinkles?” 

Threats of salmonella poisoning aside, he’s thrilled to have a chance to come in. She’s still dodging his question, but at least she’s not kicking him out. 

Tony leans against her kitchen counter, carefully drapes the blanket he’s still clutching over the bar stool next to him, and then reaches out to snag one of the fresh cookies. Darcy gives him a mock scandalized look of horror before stuffing a full spoonful of raw cookie dough in her mouth. Gross. But the cookie is baked perfectly. 

“I’m serious though, can we talk about…”

She does her best to finish off the cookie dough in her mouth so she can interrupt him. 

“Look. Tony, I didn’t know what to get you because, you’re… well…you.” She waves a hand up in down showcasing, well him. “So I made something. And because you’re fucking awesome, and the highlight of my nights when you’re in town and I might be rockin’ a tiny little cru-“ she breaks off mid word and sticks more cookie dough in her mouth to stop the lack of brain-to mouth-to spoken word filter.

“Please tell me that word was going to be ‘crush’.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, but blushes despite her best efforts.

“Yeah so. I can’t possibly be the first person to have a totally inappropriate workplace crush on you. Don’t worry, I’m an adult, I’ll get over it eventually.” 

“Or you could not get over it and have dinner with me instead.” 

They both stare at each other, and Tony’s the first to look away. Darcy’s eyebrows are threatening to merge with her hairline they are raised so high. 

“What *exactly* do you mean by ‘dinner’?”

“A meal in which we both sit down in very close proximity and consume food. In public. Possibly with nice live music playing.”

“Right. But what happens after dinner? Do I go back to your place, have a drink or two, get the grand tour that ends in your bedroom, based on your reputation have a fantastic time, and then go back to seeing you at work occasionally and that’s it?” Darcy asks. “All casual and consenting adultlike?”

He doesn’t answer right away, not sure of how to answer without scaring her off. For the second time in his life he doesn’t want a casual fling and he can’t read Darcy well enough to know if that’s all she wants. Just because she has a slight crush on him, doesn’t mean she wants to date him. He’s a mess, his last and only long term relationship ended with explosions and plummeting stocks before he and Pepper had come to their senses, he’s old enough to be her father and he’s got a shit ton of physical and mental health issues that she’d have to deal with. And piles of money as she so graciously pointed out, but that’s the last reason he hopes she’s interested in him for. It’s usually one of the top reasons for most people. 

He’s taken to long to answer and Darcy continues talking. 

“I’m normally down with that concept, actually prefer it most of the time, but I don’t think I can handle that with you. So I’m going to-“

“I don’t want casual.” 

“You don’t want to hook up with me?” 

“No I do, but like, repeatedly for years and years with no end date in sight? And we get to do other things besides fuck each other senseless. Like go to dinner.”

Darcy’s laughing at him and she’s trying to hid it behind her hand and the spoon she keeps getting cookie dough with. 

“You’re secretly a romantic aren’t you Stark?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“I’m not sure how you’ve kept up your playboy image as long as you did.” 

“Look, I’m serious Darcy. I’m not looking for a one night stand with you.”

She rolls her eyes again at him, but its fond and she’s smiling at him. 

“Can we not rush head first into this? I mean, I’m good at rushing head first at things, that’s why I took years to finish my college degree and now have played a role in at least two alien invasions and SHIELDRA’s sent undercover agents at me and Jane a few times.”

“Like I said, Darce… just let me take you to dinner sometime. I’m fine with going slow.”

“Ok.”

“Ok. Wait. For real, I can take you out on a date?” 

“Yeah. If you can find time in that crazy packed schedule of yours.”

She has a point. He’s rarely around, and he’s always being pushed 20 different directions and that’s not even counting his duties to Stark Industries. 

“I’ll make time.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has kinda turned into a slightly longer fic than I was expecting.

Darcy lets him stay and keep her company for the rest of the morning. She finishes up baking all the holiday cookies and plates them to haul them down to the communal kitchen where everyone is meeting in a few hours. He’s lounging on that god-awful futon of hers, pillows propping him up enough to be comfortable and wrapped up in his Christmas gift, dozing on and off. 

DUM-E rolled in around lunch time and dropped off one of his smoothies for Tony and chirping happily at Darcy when she handed the bot a crocheted Santa hat that sat comfortably on the joint of the bot’s arm. Tony might of snuck a picture of the two of them. 

When the kitchen is sorted and DUM-E is suitably dressed for the season, Darcy makes her way over to the futon and sits down gingerly on the edge, kinda lined up with his knees. 

He reaches out and tugs on her sleeve, “c’mere.” 

She scoots closer to him and he flicks the blanket over both of them. She’s not reaching out to him but she seems to have no problem with Tony pulling her in closer to his chest. 

“Tired?” He asks as she tries to get comfortable next to him for the first time, but while also being careful not to jostle him. He’s gonna make a solid guess and assume Darcy had seen some of the footage following Siberia or the public record of his injuries that had originally landed him in the hospital for almost a month. But he doesn’t mention it, not wanting to think about broken ribs, reconstruction surgery and barely making it out alive, when he’s comfortable and got Darcy in his arms. 

She closes her eyes for a minute or two. 

“Always. Stressed too.” 

“I’m not exactly the poster child for this, but if you need someone to talk to, you can hit me up, you know?”

She blinks for a second and then keeps her eyes closed still, her voice is a little rougher than before when she thanks him. 

***-***

Rhodey is in his wheel chair, sitting amongst team space science Jane and Eric, Vision, Stephen, and Peter when Tony and Darcy enter the common living room for the evening festivities. Peter after eagerly and awkwardly jumping up to hug Tony and wish him ‘Merry Christmas’, in another way too emotional moment, luckily saved by Peter just as hyperly explaining how Rhodey and newly introduced Dr. Strange had tag teamed to get him to come visit for a few hours. 

As he introduces spider-kid to a bemused, and evilly smirking Darcy next to him and then Stephen, he sees out of the corner of his eye Rhodey taking in their close proximity and entrance together. 

That’s gonna be a hell of a conversation later to face, but Rhodey doesn’t say anything with the group there, just looks pensive. 

The rest of the evening goes better than most of his past holidays. Both he and Darcy make the rounds with their friends, eat and drink way too much, and then it’s gift exchange time. 

Darcy’s lounging on the couch above him, taking up the whole couch by herself. Tony’s claimed the floor next to the couch and he can lean back with ease to meet Darcy’s eyes. She’s snapping photos with her phone and he smiles into the lens when she turns it his direction earning himself a blinding smile in return. 

Everyone else jostles and argues good-naturedly for a few minutes before settling in for gifts. 

The gifts all range from odd to endearing to stupid (pop tart of the month subscription from Darcy to Jane, the Beyoncé tickets that Stephen rolled his eyes at but solemnly promised to record the look on Wong’s face when he handed off Wong’s ticket, the same copy of Engineering for Dummies that he and Rhodey had been giving each other for almost 20 years now)

Darcy had given a surprisingly high-pitched shriek of excitement at the (extremely, about Darcy’s height) large box of yarn Dum-e had handed off to her on Tony’s behalf, and while she was practically swimming in skeins of yarn, even Jane smiled over at him at seeing her bff’s joy. 

In the flurry of ripped wrapping paper and discarded boxes Tony nudged the signed Motley Crue album to the side to give to Darcy in private, apparently, she was easy to please when it came to gifts. Peter would be getting the bulk of his real gifts in private too but seemed way too pleased with the gift card to his favorite pizza place. 

Bolstered by good spirts, of the natural and alcoholic types, new gifts, and actually enjoying each other’s company the party continued on after the last gift had been torn into and Dum-e had excitedly started picking up all the left over pieces with care. His lab was going to be filled with recycled Christmas wrapping for weeks. 

Peter and Stephen were the first to bow out, Peter completely sober because he was like 12 or something and no way was Tony handing a drink over to a minor, Stephen mostly sober, good enough at least to open a portal to get both of them back to the city for the night. The second round of bone crushing hugs from the kid was nice though, even if he’d never admit it. His phone vibrated seconds after, and he had a horrible feeling Darcy got that moment on camera. 

Everyone else was staying or lived at the compound and could fend for them selves and after saying goodnight and merry Christmas to a very drunk Rhodey, he escaped off to the hallway that led back to Darcy’s rooms. She was waiting in the hall for him scrolling through her phone and giggling, a much happier drunken sound than last night’s had been. 

She looked up, and put her phone in her pocket when he walked over to her. 

“Tired?” 

“Always.” He answered teasingly mimicking her answer from earlier in the day.

“I kinda just meant, do you want to kill time with me, I doubt I can sleep. ” The giggling had stopped and the smile that was turned on him looked nervous, like he was actually going to say no.   
“Oh, right. Yeah, same.” It wasn’t a lie just to spend time with Darcy. Just because he had enjoyed himself for a few hours didn’t mean is brain was going to let him sleep. Probably the opposite. “My place or yours?” 

**-**

Darcy’s eyes were wide behind her glasses as she took in his set of rooms. They weren’t anything special by his standards, but considering what he knew of Darcy the couch probably cost more than she made in a year. Probably best to ease her into this than bring her straight over to his penthouse back in NYC. 

“Make yourself comfortable.” She did not look comfortable perched on the edge of the couch, like she was afraid to break it. “Seriously, I sit on it greasy and covered in stuff from my lab all the time.”

“If you say so.” She rolled her eyes at him over the couch, as he walked towards kitchen. 

But she kicked off her shoes and flung her legs over the arm rest, so he was claiming it as a win. 

“Hungry, Lewis? I’m feelin’ waffles, with like every topping imaginable. I’m talking pure sugar rush.”

“Fuck yes. You better have real maple syrup too.”

“Flown in from either Canada or Vermont, all the grades, your choice.”

“Hell fucking yes.”

Contrary to what certain ex-avengers totally not named Steve and Clint thought, he was capable of cooking for himself and that included making waffle batter from scratch. If Darcy thought it was odd that he knew how to cook she kept it to herself, instead bouncing out of the couch happily the way only a slightly drunk 20 something could when he plated the first round of waffles. 

She snagged two of them, pouring bubbling hot maple syrup over one and powdered sugar and chocolate chips over the other. He could barely make out the garbled ‘omygodthisissogood’ considering her mouth was full of waffle at the time but he was still flattered by the praise none the less. When she slowed down and made it to snagging a third waffle, he handed over the other half of her Christmas gift. 

Darcy stared down at it. 

“You do realize you just, like an hour ago, gave me almost 2000 dollars’ worth of yarn, as a gift, right. I fit in the freakin’ box.”

Considering he had been talked out of buying her a car, a vacation home, and possibly building a basic Iron Man related suit he thinks he’s handling this lowkey gift giving like a champ. 

“Just open it ok. You do realize you spent weeks working on mine and sneaking around my back with my brilliant baby AI to give me mine, right?”

“Eh, you have a point.” She pointed at him with a fork holding a bit of waffle, “this time.” 

She tears into the wrapping paper, pausing wide eyed to take in the front of the album cover and the scrawled names in black sharpie as they became visible. 

She’s got a wide excited smile on her face and she’s clutching the album like she’s never going to let it go, and he’s finally found a person that gets just how music can get you in the right frame of mind for so many aspects of life and- 

“Well, damn.” She’s keeping the album carefully away from any sticky residue from the maple syrup and still staring at it like it’s the Holy Grail. “Thanks doesn’t really cut it.”

“Good enough for me though, finish your waffles.” He’s had enough emotional conversations and feelings in the last 24 hours to last him a few years. “I’ve got a turntable around somewhere if you wanna listen to it later.”

“Sweet.” She places carefully on an empty chair away from anything that could damage it, and they both turn back to their food. Her eyes can't seem to decided if they want to focus on him or the album, but after a few more moments of eating in silence, staring at him seems to have won out. 

“So what’s the absolute craziest thing you’ve done at a concert anyway? I want full TMZ details here, don’t spare me.” Darcy asks with a wicked grin, and Tony has to fight down blushing like a goddam teenager as he tries to think of one of his milder escapades, before throwing caution to the wind. It’s not like Darcy doesn’t know how to use google and has probably done some research.


	7. Chapter 7

It takes a few weeks before their schedules line up enough for an actual date. Tony stays in the compound through the new year, but that doesn’t stop the endless meetings for the Accords, talks about if Captain and Co. are going to be pardoned and released back to the United States, reaching out to prospective new members (he’s got a lunch meeting scheduled with Jones and Murdock as soon as he gets back to the city) and any time he’s spent with Darcy has been purely of the late night insomniacs club type. 

Foster’s going to drop Darcy off at Stark Tower on her way to the airport for some meeting back at Culver University to discuss trying to win Foster back as an employee. He doubts the University is going to offer something that Stark Industries isn’t willing to hand Team Space Science on a golden plate. That doesn’t mean he can’t begrudge Foster going over to gloat a bit. He’d do the same if he was in her shoes. Pepper thinks it’s hilarious that they are even trying.

Pepper thinks Tony’s impending date with Darcy is quite a bit less hilarious, but she’s not mad or jealous, but gives him a similar look that Rhodey had given him. Pensive and concerned. He wasn’t hoping or expecting Pepper to wish him good luck with Darcy, but she does anyway after a tedious board meeting that left him with a massive migraine and a desire to never ever leave his lab again.   
He’s hiding productively in his lab on a Tuesday when Happy texts him to let him know Darcy’s arrived and is going through tower security procedures with him. He rolls his eyes fondly at his bodyguard’s insistence on protocol and security badges when the person in question already has one of the highest security clearances the USA government offers due to SHIELD and Foster’s ties to Thor. 

Tony arrives to see the tail end of Happy’s security badge speech and he leans against the door frame with his arms crossed and smiles as Darcy nods and agrees to never ever lose it and always have it visibly pinned on her clothing. 

“Can I steal Darcy away, or do you need to go over the exact placement of the badge on her person?” 

Happy glared at him as he walked up beside him. 

“You could model good behavior for the rest of the staff by actually using yours, boss.”

Darcy was sniggering as her eyes bounced between the Tony and Happy. 

“That doesn’t sound much like me at all.” He pats his old friend and bodyguard on the shoulder and tilts his head at Darcy. “c’mon, I’ll give you the grand tour. FRIDAY will have your bags brought up to your apartment.”

Darcy gets up from her seat to stand next to them, prominently pinning her badge to the left breast of her oversized sweater. 

“Thanks Happy, I’ll be seeing you around?” she says and is rewarded with a smile from Happy for actually having her badge in place. 

“Yes of course, let me know if you need anything else, Lewis.”

**-**

“So where do you want to start on the tour?” Tony asks, flinging his arms wide in the empty hallway. Darcy’s leaning against one wall and her eyes are sparkling behind her glasses. “It’s a very big tower. People like to point that out to me, as if I didn’t realize that when I bought the property, zoned it for commercial use, and then hired a fuckton of people to build it to my exact specifications.” 

“Those people sound tedious. I wonder if they point such things out to King T’Challa.”

He grimaces slightly at the fact she caught on to who he was referencing with that snide comment but, she wasn’t wrong so…

“Agreed. However, that doesn’t answer my question. Where do you want to start?” 

Darcy smirks at him and meets his eyes.

“What’s the absolutely most boring part of this marvel of technology and your bank account? I was thinking we could start there.” 

It catches him off guard, Darcy always catches him off guard it seems and he hasn’t laughed in so long, not pure fun like this, that it doesn’t take him long to be short on breath as he tries to stop laughing. When his rebuilt chest and ribs start aching painfully, he has to lean against the wall next to her for support, but well worth it for once, he forces himself to breathe in and out as calmly as possible. 

“Boring, huh?”

“Yep.” She pops the ‘p’ sound and waits for him to catch his breath. She’s still smiling.

**-**

Darcy pokes him in his side, gently, when his private elevator doors pull open on the Human Resources floor. 

“Yes?” 

There are employees staring at both of them just standing in the elevator. It’s entirely possible that he’s never stepped foot on this floor in his life. 

Darcy leans in to hiss in his ear as more people gawk at them. Someone raises their cellphone and snaps a pic. 

“I said boring, not hellish. Have you ever had to personally deal with HR before?” 

“No? I have people, who have people, who have people, who I assume also probably have people who would contact HR for HR-y reasons…” 

“We should leave before they attack us with mandatory training meetings that could be handled via e-mail instead of two hour meetings that start 30 minutes before the scheduled end of your day and tediously written employee handbooks that state that if I felt like dying my hair several shades of purple and blue, tastefully of course, it would still go against the company mission statement.” 

“Ah, sounds like the poor man’s version of meeting with the company’s board members. You’re right,” he signals frantically to Friday to close the door and offers up a peace sign to the people that are technically his employees, but are really Pepper’s. “we should strategically retreat to someplace else. Also, that was an oddly specific description.” 

“I’ve held many a job prior to Jane, as a poor desperate high school, then college, student. HR and I go way back. I’ve changed my mind. Why don’t we grab food from somewhere and then go see what your scientists are currently blowing up?”

“Your words are music to my ears.” 

Tony’s been to the cafeteria floor much more than HR, but even saying that, he’s still not been that often. Usually Happy, or nowadays, Peter would pick up something for him when they came through. Darcy seems pretty impressed though, there’s not a chain restaurant or gross cafeteria line in sight. Each kiosk or restaurant is locally owned and run by someone in NYC or owned directly by Stark Industries. He had open tabs for food at all the locations, and all the businesses paid a living wage under his roof, but that didn’t stop him from absentmindedly sticking 20’s in as tips at each place they stopped at. Which based on the look Darcy gave him, definitely gained her approval. 

**-**  
“I tried teaching him chess, but he never seemed to get the hang of it.” He looks over the remains of his lunch and the holograph specs for ironspider suit he’s designing, at Darcy and Dum-e currently enthralled in a game of checkers at one of his spare work benches. “He’s horrible at Jenga too if you’re looking for an easy win.” 

Dum-e beeps at him, offended. 

“Well you are, you got the fine motor control, you just get way too excited.” 

“Careful, Tony. He might think you need to cool off a bit and hit you with the extinguisher again.” She says as she helps Dum-e start to put all the pieces away in the box it came from. Dum-e carts it off to a small game shelf that he’s collected over the years. 

“It won’t be the first or last time he tries.” Tony mutters as he flips through more diagrams. 

Darcy makes her way to where he’s working and perches on the armrest of his chair. He’s about to ask if she’s willing to wait another half hour or so, so he can wrap up this last little bit of design, when he realizes he’s completely forgotten to hide that damn phone Rogers had sent him. He’s never called the number programed in it, and he never will but he hasn’t been able to toss it like the trash it is yet. 

It’s ringing now, and Darcy’s staring at the outdated technology. Darcy might listen to music from before she was born and crochet like someone’s bamf great grandmother, but her technology (in her price range) was on point. 

“What’s the burner phone for?”

He laughs bitterly. It’s still ringing, and prior to this the day had been one of his best in years. 

“Captain America sent it to me.” 

“Hmm.”

He can tell she’s not pleased. He can’t tell who she’s mad at, him or Rogers. 

“SHIELD had him wander through New Mexico and our labs a time or two. Jane hated it, he kept breaking shit, I mean admittedly until recently it’s all been held together with force of mind and ducktape, but still, and he wasn’t the right ridiculously buff blonde dude she wanted. Plus, he kept forgetting to call her Dr. and just pissed her off more. He was polite and a bit aimless with me. But other than that, I really only know the propaganda about the guy.”

He’s subconsciously rubbing his chest and the action lingers even after the phone falls silent. He can’t seem to stop. 

She breaks the silence as she continues talking. Her voice is even, but there is a clear trace of underlying anger.

“But I have read the Accords, word for word, front to back, along with all the changes. I’ve read all the criminal charges against Rogers and co, and followed the news from national and international sources, tracked public opinion and knowledge, researched where the funding for everything was coming from-“

He’s staring at her, and his brain pulls up the mental file that is Darcy Lewis and he’s reminded that she’s a political science major from a very well regarded school, until Hulk did damage there. And she’s still useful to Jane and Eric in their fields too not to mention was their main liaison to SHIELDRA, even if Darcy masks that intelligence behind demands for her ipod back and pop culture references.

“Sorry, my point is, nothing I’ve found so far puts Rogers in a good light so. And I’ve spent enough time with you in the last few months to know you’re not some egotistical asshole your SHIELD file paints you as, you just happen to be filthy rich which is both your fault and not, and I’ve seen the panic attacks first hand and the whole world has seen the released version of your medical reports. Which is probably watered down from what really happened, to give you at least some modicum of privacy.” 

He’s still not sure if she’s fully made whatever point she was trying to make but the words ‘nothing I’ve found so far puts Rogers in a good light’ help ease the tension he’s feeling in every muscle in his body. 

“He sent me a letter too.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s an ‘apology’”, he rolls his eyes and uses actual finger quote marks to fully make the most of it. “The phone’s here in case I ever need to call the Avengers. A lifeline that Rogers so gallantly threw my way.” the sarcasm drips off his words. 

“Then why is he calling you.”

“Probably because I’ve shot down every attempt at contacting me through legit channels, and never used the phone to call him. And T’Challa grows tired of being their gracious host in Wakanda, apparently they are needy and a bit high maintenance.”

“And more and more countries and people are demanding justice for their actions, and let me guess they expect you to help them.”

“Exactly.” 

“Instead of doing something useful like putting up protective and offensive measures for whatever major intergalactic problem is headed our way.”

He glances her way and she meets his gaze. 

“I don’t know what exactly is out there, but I know something is and we aren’t prepared for it as a planet. Once again, not my first alien invasion.” She says. 

Tony sighs and buries his head in his arms in a rare moment of weakness. At this point in time, Lewis could hurt him all sorts of ways, he’s going to take one more stab at trusting someone, because he’s a little far gone on her anyway. He starts talking through his arms where he’s still resting his head. 

“I think the Avengers Initiative is necessary, I just, let’s say, disagree on who should be a member of said initiative. Rogers and Romanof like to think, as she stated during that little info dump of hers that I cleaned up, that the world needs them. But they are hardly unique.”

“That explains the new faces at Christmas.” 

“There are more potential members out there.”

“So you’re recruiting, makes sense based off what I’ve read of the Accords.” 

“I want a new team, or several new teams in place before a pardon manages to go through for them. They can not be the only option on the table for the protection of this planet.”


	8. Chapter 8

He’s not so far gone on Darcy that he shares any details of his plans. One wrong word to the wrong people could send this house of cards he’s building tumbling down. She doesn’t seem insulted by that at all, she’s worked for Jane for years now and finding out about Foster’s research is harder than hacking Fort Knox, she knows all about keeping her mouth shut.

They leave his lab, mutually deciding to table conversations about international crimes and alien invasions for another evening. Preferably not tomorrow evening because he had promised Darcy dinner that didn't involve their combined cooking talents or takeout. 

Naturally, because they are two human adults with working brains, the thought of both topics will keep both of them up all night like the anxiety ridden insomniacs they are, but at least they can hide that fact behind snack food, crochet, and some mindless movie that Friday picks for them. 

Morning comes with a fresh excuse for coffee, not that he’s every needed an excuse to mainline caffeine. 

Jane’s on the phone with Darcy and she waves him off to his lab with an eye roll as she listens to what Doc Foster’s muttering angrily about and taps out some notes on a tablet. Work never ends and she’ll find him later. He’s got his own list a mile long to work on. 

***-***

He’s not sure if he likes Danny Rand or not. The fellow billionaire club member could walk down the street mostly unnoticed and left his company legacy mostly out of his hands, while flashing money around left and right when he felt like it. In fact, Tony’s positive that Rand has very little knowledge of how or who runs his company on most days. That may come back to bite Rand in the ass, but it’s not Tony’s company and reputation on the line so he keeps the conversation pointed towards the accords only. He’s also kinda jealous of the younger man’s lack of being a household name. He could use some obscurity these days. 

The Immortal Iron Fist. Sorcerer Supreme. 

The names alone were going to drive him crazy. At least with Stephen he knew he could talk shit at the doctor and still come out the other end with an ally. Danny seemed to take his ridiculous title very seriously, well so did Stephen, but still. Or possibly he was trolling everyone with that story about punching a dragon. Tony honestly was not sure. 

But, despite his blooming jealously towards the other man, that he would never ever admit too, it’s nice having someone else foot a few of the bills. It sounds like Danny’s willing to step in for Jessica Jones, Daredevil, and Luke Cage the way Tony used to for the Avengers. 

Those four are the best bet for a local, hometown superhero team. Instead of Ironman being called out to central park for something the police or someone like Daredevil could handle by themselves, would free up so much of Tony’s time and sanity. Day jobs tie the four Defenders to New York and that’s home for them. The Accords certainly aren’t going to change that. 

Finding superpowered individuals in New York City is laughably easy. Finding them abroad is slightly harder, but it turns out despite many Americans thinking this was a USA only deal, and Roger’s attempts at running all over the world on his dime, there’s a burgeoning list of options abroad too that are going to have to come to the accords this time around. 

Tony wanted to have first pass at surveillance footage of Steve “I wear the American flag on my uniform and can do no wrong because I’m unique and worthy and my moniker of ‘Captain America’ is also unique and important” Rogers meeting Captain Britain. 

But his favorite wildcard by far, even more so than Hope Van Dyne pissing off Hank, who had personally insisted on coming to all accords meetings was Victor Von Doom. 

It flip-flopped by day and hour if Doom was a Supervillain or not, but the Accords couldn’t actually turn a ruling leader of a legitimate country away, especially one with powers of his own, just because the USA hadn’t placed its dictator into power. The accords were open to any country that was concerned with supes running amok across their borders and Doom liked to point out his concerns, loudly and in third person to the council. And if any country had an issue with Latveria joining, Wakanda would also be placed in an uncomfortable position considering their leader was looking to play a major role. 

There were others out there on an international level, but it would take time and actual proof of being trustworthy before they’d come out of the woodwork. 

But at least the list consisted of more than just Rogers and Co. 

**-**

It was normal for Peter to find his way over to the lab a few days a week. It didn’t register in Tony’s brain that that meant that normal business hours were coming to a close for the day and that it also happened to be Friday afternoon. He just looked up, waved hello to Peter with the phillips head in his hand and went back to tweaking the project he was working on. Spider-kid had his own projects to work on and they settled into a mostly comfortable routine where they both got work done and enjoyed each other’s company. 

“Uh, hi, hello. Did you need Mr. Stark for something? Or I can help?” 

Peter’s nervous rambling continued as it pulled Tony’s attention from the suit he was currently halfway inside and working on. He looked over his shoulder towards the door to see what caused Peter’s monologue. 

“It’s Darcy, right? We met at Christmas. At the Compound. Wasn’t it great? Mr. Stark has the best parties!” 

Darcy was leaning against one of the doors to his lab, laughing at Peter and waiting for him to pause so she could answer. So far the kid hadn’t given her a chance yet and she was growing more amused by the second it seemed. Which was good, because she was dressed in a rather low cut form fitting black dress with dark purple edging that was making Tony’s IQ dip with every breath she took. 

“Sir,” began Friday, “I think Miss Lewis is ready for that date you had planned.”

Peter paused and glanced between Darcy and Tony, eyes wide as saucers as he took in Tony obviously forgetting he had plans that didn’t involve robots and building said bots. 

“Shit, sorry I-“

“I got distracted by SCIENCE!, forgot to ask Friday to remind me, and lost track of time. I work with Jane Foster, I know the drill. Thor had to carry her out of the lab once, with my permission. Happy’s bringing you a suit that doesn’t double as a weapon of war, he also called several restaurants and made reservations, all which sound fancy and expensive and out of my league, so you pick. And you have a shower in here so you don’t even have to head back to the penthouse.” Darcy rattled off, coming into the lab to sit on the couch. “Take your time, I’m sure Peter here can show me some new and exciting science to keep me amused while you wrap up for the evening and get ready.”

Tony gapes at her, and he’s certain that Peter, that traitor is laughing at him.

“I’d be happy to close up the lab with Friday’s help for you tonight, Mr. Stark.” Interjects Peter. “And show Darcy my new web slingers.”

“Ohhhh…practical science, that makes my brain much happier than straight up math equations.” 

“Darcy I-“ Tony starts to extract himself from the suit he’s half in. He can feel himself making the same goddamn mistakes he made with Pepper, with Darcy and he doesn’t even have years of friendship behind it with Darcy to make her think this is even worthwhile. 

“Tony, relax. I’m in no rush and I came down here early because I figured you got busy.” She holds up her phone, “I was gonna just work while you got ready, but hanging out with Peter sounds like a lot more fun.”

It both warms him and horrifies him that Darcy and Peter seem to be getting along. He’s not sure if he’s gonna survive an alliance between the two of them. 

“Right. Ok then, Spiderling, Tazer-girl, don’t blow up my lab.”


	9. Chapter 9

Darcy and Peter are bent over one of the lab tables hotly discussing which Ironman Meme is the best as they flip through holographic memes on some social media site when Tony exits the shower. Happy is casually leaning against the table too, like the whole conversation is benefit him, but he’s totally invested based on his curt input. 

His hair is still damp, but he looks more GQ now than Popular Mechanic so he’ll take it. Darcy smiles up at him when he wraps an arm around her waist lightly. She leans into him and away from the lab table. 

“I think I’m going to have to bow out now, Parker. But this meme war isn’t over. We are facebook friends now and I love excuses to avoid productively working.” 

“Oh god there’s two of you.” Tony mutters, steering her away from the table towards the door. “Night Peter. Call me if you need anything. I mean it.” He mock glares at the kid, “I’m serious. Call me if you have any sort of problems here or on patrol.”

Darcy and Peter wave goodbye to each other as Tony, Darcy, and Happy exited the lab and make it to the elevator. 

The elevator ride down to his private parking garage is awkwardly quiet. Darcy looks fucking fantastic and he’s still got an arm wrapped lightly around her waist, but it’s obvious she’s nervous as she fiddles with her small purse and keeps fiddling with the top of her dress. But she’s trying to hide it and dinner isn’t something she can threaten to taze into submission and keep control over like she does other things that scare her.

Happy is studying security footage on his phone and probably planning the best paparazzi or worse, free way of escaping the tower. He’s had years of practice at ignoring Tony in compromising situations with women, and he’s playing all professional now despite knowing Darcy. 

Tony for better or worse, tends to run his mouth and breaks the silence first. 

“Where did you say we were going?”

Darcy latches onto the conversation starter with all the enthusiasm a drowning man would have by a life ring.

“I didn’t, Happy,” she jokingly reaches out and lightly slaps Tony on the shoulder, “did your job for you and made a few reservations. You get to pick.”

“Any food you hate?” Tony asks, figuring that would be the easiest way to narrow something down. 

“Sushi.” 

He looks down at her mock scandalized.

“I know. I know. Everyone gives me that look. It’s a texture thing. I’ve tried many times.” 

“Ok well that narrows it down at least, you heathen. I’m feeling either French or Japanese.”

“I’ve never had French before…”

“Happy you got a French cuisine place on that reservation list of yours?”

“Does it look like it’s my first day on the job, Tony?” Happy mutters as Darcy doesn’t bother to hide her snort of amusement. The elevator becomes a bit more relaxed. 

“Ohhh, is it that place with the view?” Tony continues. 

“And the tables and chairs.”

“Oh, let me guess,” Darcy joins in, “they even have food, served on plates.”

“Yes, exactly, you both have guessed exactly which restaurant I’m driving you to.” 

**-**

Happy’s got the divider rolled up, so it’s just Darcy and him in the back seat. She’s staring out the tinted and bulletproof window and Tony for once in his life doesn’t break the quiet. He’s got his arm around her shoulders now, and she’s tense underneath the weight of his arm. He doesn’t know what to do or say. 

Tony’s dated a staggering number of women prior to being kidnapped and building the Iron Man armor. A great deal of them were after his money, he could usually see the excitement and dollar signs flashing in their eyes when he was with them. Like they were already mentally spending all his money any way they wished. They never made it past one night with him, and sometimes not even that.   
Darcy’s got dollar signs in her eyes too this evening as Happy opens the car door for her and she takes the arm Tony offers, but it’s not the same. It’s more like she’s come to some sort of realization that hadn’t quite hit her prior to this moment and she’s tallying up the bill in her head and hasn’t decided if she can afford it or not. 

“Thanks, Happy.” She says as Happy closes the car door behind her, and escorts them both into the restaurant before leaving to go park the car. 

She takes in the décor, the other guests and their clothes, the stunning view of the city from one set of windows, and the view of central park from the other set with wide eyes. He’d bet his favorite car that she hadn’t been this wide eyed upon meeting Thor, an actual alien/god of norse mythology. 

The place does have booth seating, and despite it being a security risk to sit in booths if something were to attack them (sadly a common concern for both of them these days), they both prefer being tucked away in a small booth for two in the corner than one of the seated tables. 

Darcy’s smile disappears after the waiter bows out to give them time to look over the menu. 

“Tony,” she hisses his name at him and he looks up from his own menu.

“What?”

“There are zero prices on this menu.”

“That’s pretty common.” He’s not sure what the issue is. 

Darcy’s staring at him and all those easy nights watching movies and making fun of each other’s entertainment tastes seem so very far away. Almost like two different people are sitting here now. 

“If you don’t know what you want just pick the tasting menu. It’s usually several courses and you’ll get to try a variety different dishes, and if you have any concerns or questions about anything listed you can just let the waiter know, as for wine unless you had something specific in mind I’d just go with the waiter’s suggestion.” 

**-**

Tony’s a little impressed with how quickly Darcy downs the first glass of wine but it seems to do the trick. Darcy’s usually a happy drunk and the slight buzz from the first glass seems to have helped relax her a bit. 

The glass is refilled before she even has a chance to turn her head and look for a waiter. 

She sips it but puts it back down after. 

“You ok there, Darce?”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s just, uh, the last time someone bought me wine it came in a box. Just feeling a little out of my league here.” She points to the current glass of wine she has. “It’s really good though.”

That gives him pause and remind him of just how young she is. She’s charming and real in a way he’s not used to but most of the introspection he’s coming to is wiped away by the fact her lips look fantastic in the dark red lipstick she’s wearing and the dress she’s wearing fits her like a glove. 

“We can go somewhere more casual if you prefer, I just was hoping to avoid getting our faces splashed on the front page of every tabloid around. These kinds of places tend to be pretty discrete.”

“It’s fine. I mean I’m psyched about getting to try the food. It’s just a little…” She waves her hand vaguely towards everything and it reminds him of being 21 and being dragged to a scummy dive bar by Rhodey and some of his Air Force buddies for the first time. He has no desire to try dollar beer ever again. He’s not even sure Natural Light should be considered a beer. But it had been a bit of a surreal experience for him, and he could see how the extreme opposite might be just as surreal for Darcy. 

Darcy relaxes a bit more when some actual food arrives. The conversation eases into that topic. 

Darcy’s done more than her fair share of travel with Dr. Foster and has tried an equally exhaustive amount of street food so she’s not exactly timid when it comes to trying new things. That’s good because dinner isn’t exactly bar food, but Darcy seems to be enjoying it and some of the sounds she's making in appreciation is not helping his train of thought. At least not the train of thought that had originally agreed to take things slow weeks ago. The one thing he does know as he watches her lick her spoon clean with the same unshakable interest he usually focuses on new science projects, is that he's going to keep the final cost of the check out of her sight.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted a new fic, based on this on but filling in things we don't know from Darcy's POV. Please check it out.

Darcy’s warm and soft under his hands as he backs her up against the guest apartment door. When he tilts his head down at a better angle to capture her mouth, she wraps an arm around his neck and pulls herself up to meet him. 

He pushes in closer until she’s flush against the door and against him. She’s pulling him closer, the hand at the nape of his neck rubbing softly as she keeps him close, her other hand is messing with his crisp dress shirt where it’s tucked into his pants a bit tentatively. He’s fucking hard and he’s sure Darcy’s had to have noticed by now with how they are pressed up to each other. He’s not exactly trying to hide it. 

He braces himself against the door with one hand as he uses the other to palm one of Darcy’s breasts through her low cut dress. His thumb rubbing over the pale skin that’s exposed. He’s rewarded with low moan from her against his lips. He gets to coax even more interesting sounds out of her as he kisses his way to her neck, based on how she flexes and whimpers against him as he does so, he calling that a win. 

He hasn’t tried to figure out how to work the zipper situation to undress her better, the slight hesitancy as she plays with his belt buckle and the taste of the excellent wine she’d had with dinner warning enough not to pursue something more tonight. 

When he finally pulls away to give them both some breathing room, he gets a good look at Darcy looking quite debauched slouched against the door with her full bruised lips parted, wide eyes, and a blush that runs from her cheeks and over her breasts still barely contained by the dress that he’s wanted to peel off of her since hours before. He wants a lot of things right now. Most of which center on Darcy being on her back in his bed legs wrapped round his waist, or riding him, her fantastic tits in his hands and under his tongue, or on her knees those bruised lips wrapped around his cock as she looks up at him with big blue eyes as she works up and down his length until he comes. He wants her under his hands, mouth, tongue, body, he wants take her apart and make her scream and moan his name for hours. 

He wants her laughing and smiling at his kitchen table the next morning, dressed in the mishmash of clothing she finds at sales and thrift stores. 

He just wants. 

“Darce,” she straightens a bit at her name, but doesn’t fix her dress yet. It’s distracting still in the best of ways an he’s basically talking to her breasts as he asks “You want to take a shower and get changed into something more comfortable and then watch a movie or something in the penthouse with me?”

“Yeah,” her voice is a bit husky and rough as she answers. “I’ll be up in about an hour?” 

“Sounds good.” 

He leans in to kiss her again, this time on her cheek before pulling back and giving her room to fumble for her security badge and room key, once she’s got the door open and kicked off her heels safely inside the door he gives her a small smile and heads towards the elevator.

**-**   
He’s answering emails and scheduling meetings on his tablet as he lounges on the couch, 80’s rock ballads pumping through his speaker system. Darcy’s arc reactor blanket wrapped around him as he muddles through his never ending work load as he waits for Darcy to join him. If she joins him. 

It’s over an hour later than Darcy had originally mentioned when Friday opens the doors to the penthouse and lets Darcy in. She’s wearing dark green sweatpants that look soft and comfortable and an oversized Stark Industries T-Shirt that’s not hiding the fact she’s skipped a bra for the evening and her hair is still wet from her shower. Her glasses sit slightly crooked across her face and it’s all oddly endearing. Howard Stark is probably rolling over in his grave at Tony’s sentimentally. 

“How’s work going?” She asks as he makes room for her under the blanket with him. 

“How would you like to attend three Stark Industries board meetings for me this month along with two UN meetings? You’re short and brunette and snarky, they won’t notice the difference.”

She snorts in amusement. 

“Sure, if you want to cover writing four grant proposals for Jane and enter all her nonlinear thought process notes into our data base along with proofing her next round of soon to be peer-reviewed findings.” Darcy offers, as she cuddles up to his side and gets comfortable. 

“Both options sound very tedious. However, yours sounds like you can lock yourself in a lab and avoid annoying people and play loud music.”

“Except I usually have to make phone calls about the grants and that means hours of being put on hold in various departments as I’m shuffled around. It’s thrilling work. I think I need danger pay for that as much as chasing odd weather patterns and facing space gods in battle.” 

“Speaking of the horror that is work, when do you have to be back at the compound?”

“Jane’s gone for at least a week, and she probably won’t starve to death until a week after her return, so I’ve got about two weeks. Most of my job when we aren’t out in the field can be done remotely.” 

He puts the tablet down and uses his now free hands to pull her in closer. 

“You going to stick around here? I mean, if you want. You’re uh, more than welcome.”

“Thanks. I will.” 

**-**  
The next few days are a nice break from reality. He wakes up each morning to a face full of Darcy’s hair, and her body pressed close to his. And despite not getting laid, it’s hands down the most rested he’s felt in years. He’s actually had a few hours of sleep that haven’t included vicious nightmares. 

Naturally that doesn’t last all that long as one afternoon he gets a phone call from Everett Ross stating that Rogers and company would be returning to the United States, and oh, would Tony be oh so kind to house them as they figured out the whole pardon situation?


	11. Chapter 11

Tony’s not that kind. Or that willing. On a personal level the very idea of being in the same general area of Roger’s has him on a brink of a panic attack. Tony’s not exactly thrilled with the idea of seeing any of the others either. 

But he’s also not willing to come straight out and say it because he knows how to play this political game and frankly he doesn’t want Stark Industries stocks to take a hit for his personal views. Luckily for him he’s not the only major player in town these days that has money and large scale influence. And honestly, he’s willing to step back and assess the situation. 

He does not want to be the only person in the line of fire for either the pardons or crucify them camp. They were his teammates; he can see why it’s understandable that Rogers would consider the accords impossible to sign. He’s had his own issues with the United States Government, he knows firsthand what bureaucracy and senseless military assignments look like through Rhodey’s years of loyal service and his own mistakes selling weapons to the government. He knows that most of the USA’s interest in the accords is being able to flaunt the Avengers as propaganda and as a strike force. He knows that just about everyone is corrupt or has an agenda in some way. For years he was able to ignore it, but since becoming Iron Man he no longer has that luxury. 

In theory, no one should be above the law. 

In reality, many people are. Tony’s aware that he’s been above the law before, and will probably be again even without trying, money and privilege tend to help with that. He’s privileged, it doesn’t always feel like it sometimes, but he is aware that he can do things that very feel other people can get away with. 

And sometimes the law really is wrong. The Jarvis’s wouldn’t have been alive to give him some semblance of a childhood if it wasn’t for Howard and Edwin breaking a few laws to keep Ana Jarvis safe and alive as Nazi’s invaded her country. 

His family fortune had been built on questionable business practices, war-profiteering, and the occasionally stolen idea, curtesy of Howard Stark. 

But right now, despite what Roger’s thought in his quick dismissal of the Accords, they (whomever the Avengers and other teams end up involving) have a say in what the Accords will cover, and this isn’t one of those times to dismiss 117 countries and their concerns. 

Afterall, Tony’s been trying to tell people for years something bigger is coming, and being able to warn 117 countries in an official manner might be slightly more effective than just having a handful of Avengers running around. 

Victor Von Doom is heavily monitoring the accords as one of the few actual world leaders that would have to sign other than T’Challa should Doom decide to play nice with other countries for a bit. With the USA trying to bring Roger’s and co home, well it’s going to come as no surprise that he’s going to have quite a few things to say at the next United Nations and Accords council meeting. And while there are enough countries that don’t like Doom, there are enough that do, and there are quite a few countries that don’t like the USA having their own Superhero Boy Band back on American soil before they can figure out if they are heroes or criminals. And how exactly pardoning them around should look. 

So when Everett Ross call him back a day or so later, early one morning, as he tiredly stares into his coffee, he’s informed that he won’t be needed to house them. They are still being transferred out of Wakanda, to the United States, but nominees from about 50 countries have been put forward to ‘protect’ and ‘ensure’ the safety and containment of the rogue Avengers. Along with funding. In all honestly Rogers and Romanoff and Barton are skilled enough to walk right out of the set up if they so choose. 

It sounds like a disaster in the making on so many levels. 

But, hey, Tony’s going to chalk it up as a win in his favor because his compound gets to remain rogue free. 

It’s not really a win on any level, in fact each day feels like he’s falling deeper and deeper into a hole he’s never gonna be able to fight his way out of but at least he doesn’t have to see their faces for a least a bit longer. 

The pardons will come all too soon he knows.   
***-***  
Tony tries to convince Darcy to stay a bit longer. He offers her one of the guest floors if she wants it and she gets the same look in her eyes she had at dinner with him days ago. Dollar signs and mathematical equations that don’t equal the same answers Tony’s getting. 

“I have a job to get back to, I mean Jane’s never going to fire me, but still. Plus she’ll be here soon and road trips are kinda our thing. Even if it’s just to upstate New York.”

She walks over to him, away from the suitcase she’s packing on the edge of his bed, to where he’s hovering and pacing as he ‘helps’. 

Her lips are soft under his as she reaches up and pulls him down to meet her. She might of advanced first this time but she stays in his arms until he lets her go back to packing grudgingly. He flops down on the bed and plays around with one of her few nice but non-matching lacy panties until she grabs it from him and tosses it into her suitcase. 

“You’re ruining all my fun.” He mutters into his arm as he rolls to look at her. She rolls her eyes and quirks her lips at that. 

“If you don’t think your schedule’s placing you at the compound this week, I can get a bus back here on my days off. If you want.” 

She sounds tentative in a way that a woman who’s faced aliens and tazed a god shouldn’t be. 

“I’ll send Happy to drive you in if you give me what times work best for you.” 

She pauses as if she wants to argue but, just says,

“Yeah, sure, I’ll let you know when I have a better idea of Jane’s schedule for the week.” 

She zips the suit case shut and turns to stare at him.

“Yes? I know I’m pretty to look at and all that jazz…”

“Tony, don’t take this the wrong way.”

That sort of start to conversation probably meant he was going to take it the wrong way.

“Yeah?”

“Are you seeking any kind of professional help at all, like a therapist or something? Other than that program you introduced at M.I.T.?”

“I’m trying? It’s complicated?” He answers her. He talks to Rhodey a lot. He’s on the brink of trusting Strange which is both exciting and scary as fuck. And despite doing his very best to not fuck the kid up like his own childhood, Peter Parker could get him to open up like no one else. It’s not ideal but the kid’s both so scary similar to Tony sometimes yet not at all, that Tony can’t really resist. The kid calls him all the time with his problems big and small and Tony doesn’t want to scare him off by refusing that level of trust.

He knows a lot of doctors in one shape or another but sadly no good therapists that wouldn’t sell out to the media, government, or enemy. His trust issues have trust issues at this point and he’s not sure how much more he can take before he fucks something or someone up beyond repair. 

"That's fair."

"I'm trying to not drink around spider-kid."

She blinks in surprise at him, which is fair, she's seen him drunk a handful of times and they honestly, haven't had that much time together for it not to seem like he's drunk a good amount of the time.

"I don't have to drink around you if that's making things worse."

It's a sweet gesture and and he's conflicted on the answer. 

"I'll let you know, I don't really know right now."

"Fair enough, offer stands."


End file.
